


The Favor of Your Reply

by ThirtySixSaveFiles



Series: RSVP [5]
Category: Borderlands, Tales from the Borderlands - Fandom
Genre: Established Relationship, Floof, Jack's not good with emotions, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-20
Updated: 2016-03-20
Packaged: 2018-05-27 18:09:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6294505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThirtySixSaveFiles/pseuds/ThirtySixSaveFiles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a moment here, one that, if Jack lets it pass by, he's not sure he's going to be able to get back.</p><p>Or, Jack runs the gauntlet of Rhys' friends. It's strangely harder than meeting the family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Favor of Your Reply

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt fill for [DoNotChooseSidesYet](http://donotchoosesidesyet.tumblr.com) / [callmearcturus](http://archiveofourown.org/users/callmearcturus), who asked for "some situation in which Jack has to interact with Rhys' friends." This didn't turn out _quite_ the way I expected it, but I hope you enjoy it anyway!
> 
> Edited 4/10/16 for minor changes to Jack's drinking habits.

“So you’re the Hyperion boytoy,” Sasha says, hands on her hips, evaluation clear on her face. Jack is pretty sure he’s never been called _boytoy_ in his life, but somehow he thinks he’s not going to start anything with her.

Not now, anyway. He and Rhys have just walked in the door; discretion seems like the better part of valor, but Jack reserves the right to change his mind.

Fiona - who is Sasha’s sister, if Jack remembers the introductions correctly - leans an arm on Sasha’s shoulder. “And the kitten bouquet guy, don’t forget that.”

Yvette joins them from the kitchen, drink in hand and heels clacking. She looks Jack up and down, and he straightens despite himself. “Hm. He’s the good dancer, though, right?”

“And he threatened to punch Jeffrey in the face.” Vaughn says, one hand on his chin. “Not bad for a random guy off the internet.”

The other three turn to look at Vaughn, who drops his hand from his face. “What, don’t you know how they met?” At the chorus of resounding “no”s, Vaughn breaks into a grin. “Oh man, this is gonna be _good_. Sorry, bro,” he says to Rhys, not sounding very sorry at all.

Next to Jack, Rhys has folded his arms and put one hand over his eyes, but he’s smiling, if ruefully. “No no, of course. Why not tell everyone.” He drops his hand from his eyes and pokes Vaughn in the shoulder. “Although it was really _your_ fault.”

“Ha! That’s right, it was.” Vaughn rubs his hands together, catching Jack’s eye for a second before turning back to Fiona, Sasha, and Yvette, who are looking impatient.

“Okay, so it’s a week before Thanksgiving, and there’s this ad, right?”

* * *

 

When Rhys had asked if he wanted to go to Vaughn’s birthday get-together, Jack’s first question had been “who’s Vaughn?”

Fortunately he had caught himself just in time, and good thing too, because _Vaughn_ , he was Rhys’ best friend, of course. Jack had realized with a faint sense of guilt that he hardly knew anything about Rhys’ friends; Rhys talked about them, sure, but Jack hadn’t actually _met_ them in the months that they’d been dating. So Jack can’t exactly turn this invitation down.

It’s okay. They’ll love him. Jack’s awesome, just ask anyone. Rhys certainly seems to think so, and Rhys has excellent taste.

Only they don’t seem to love him, not initially; when he walks into the house he’s immediately fielding a barrage of evaluative and - although this could be paranoia - slightly judgey statements.

“Rhys tells us you’ve been married before.”

“Running a restaurant must keep you busy. Not a lot of free time.”

“How did you take over ownership of Hyperion, anyway?”

He half expects someone to ask him what his _intentions_ toward Rhys are; fortunately it doesn’t (quite) come to that, although Sasha does corner him in the kitchen with a series of pointed questions that seem to be leading up to asking if Jack is a serial killer. He’s about to say something that will really get him in trouble when Rhys rescues him, latching on to Jack’s elbow with a “sorry, Sash, I need to borrow him for a minute.”

“Borrow” apparently means “tow outside to the patio,” where Rhys pulls two bottles out of the cooler. He pops the tops off of both with the heel of his metal hand and hands one to Jack, who raises his eyebrows.

“That’s a neat party trick,” Jack says, accepting his soda. “Haven’t seen you do that before.”

Rhys shrugs and flexes the fingers of his right hand. “This thing comes in handy sometimes.” Then he waves the hand, grinning. “Get it? Handy?”

Jack rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling. “That’s terrible, that’s like _my_ level of joke, come on pumpkin, you’re better than that.”

Rhys cocks his head at that, and Jack replays what he just said and winces a little internally. He hadn’t meant to imply - it’s not that he thinks Rhys is too _good_ for him, of course not, Jack is impressive in every way. It’s just-

It’s just that sure, Jack has gotten his life together and he’s on a roll now, but he hasn’t always been. And Rhys is - well. He’s _Rhys,_ with his MBA, and his expensive clothes, and his friends who are treating Jack with something just this side of suspicion.

As if he can read Jack’s mind, Rhys asks, “How are you doing in there? I know they can be-” Rhys pauses and searches for the right phrase. “A little much.”

“I’m fine, of course I’m fine.” Jack buys himself time by taking a drink. “Are you sure the Inquisition isn’t missing a few members, though? Especially Sasha, wouldn’t be surprised if she’s heating up the irons while we’re out here.”

Rhys laughs and ducks his head. “Yeah, they can be - overprotective. I haven’t always had such good luck with boyfriends, you know,” he says, eyeing Jack from underneath his lashes. “It’s a nice change.”

And ah, there’s that word, _boyfriend_. Jack has trouble saying it, and he knows Rhys has noticed, but Rhys hasn’t pushed him, which makes Jack feel simultaneously extremely lucky and like a piece of shit. He likes Rhys, a lot - in fact he tries not to think about _how much_ he likes Rhys, how all Rhys has to do is ask and Jack will tell him _yes._

Jack puts on an exaggerated grin, the kind he knows makes Rhys laugh, and sweeps a half-bow from the waist. “We aim to please, sweetheart. We aim to please.” Rhys does indeed laugh at that, and that appears to be enough to get Jack past whatever this moment is.

When they return to the party Sasha has not, in fact, produced any torture instruments, and Jack had been kidding about that anyway. Mostly. It’s funny; he had no problem running the gauntlet of Rhys’ family - that had been kind of fun, actually. Here, though, in this place where Rhys is clearly at ease, head thrown back and laughing in a way that Jack is finding increasingly addictive, here among the people Rhys chooses to call home Jack finds himself _trying_ in a way he hasn’t for anyone besides Angel in a long time.

It seems to be working, at least a little bit. Jack is pretty sure he has Vaughn on his side for the whole “willing to punch Jeffrey” thing, and Yvette seems to be warming up to him after he mixes her his version of a mint julep. (The secret is to thoroughly muddle the mint leaves and hit it with a shot of club soda.) Fiona and Sasha seem to be still on the fence, and for all that Sasha is the more outwardly hostile, Jack thinks Fiona is the one he has to convince.

As the evening draws on, the conversation briefly, mercifully, turns to Sasha’s love life instead of Rhys’. Apparently she’s just dumped her latest fling, or at least that’s what she announces when Vaughn asks how her boyfriend is.

“August was never my _boyfriend_ ,” she says, rolling her eyes. “He was just someone I saw for a while.”

“Hm,” says Yvette, her gaze sliding over to Jack, and he’s only known her for a few hours but he can tell _exactly_ what she’s thinking and almost rolls his eyes himself.

And okay, maybe he hasn’t said _that word_ to Rhys, but it’s not like Rhys doesn’t _know_ , right? Jack cuts a look over at Rhys, who is studiously examining his drink.

Jack is suddenly a lot less sure of himself.

“Shame when people don’t live up to the hype, don’t you think, Jack?” Fiona’s tone is playful, but her eyes are cool.

“Fi,” says Rhys sharply, and Jack has had just about enough of this.

“This August guy sounds like a schmuck." Jack puts down his bottle with a thump, drawing the attention of the group. "I hear you loud and clear, Fiona, but obviously you don't know who you’re dealing with, so let me clear something up for you right now.” Fiona and Sasha look skeptical, and Yvette raises an eyebrow. Vaughn shoots a worried look at Rhys, who is looking back at Jack with a neutral, waiting expression.

“I’m the Hyperion-owning, kitten-bearing, cousin-punching _boyfriend.”_ Jack slings his arm around Rhys’ shoulders and leans in close. “And I’m here to stay. Isn’t that right, babe.”

Rhys’ eyes are warm, like his voice. “Damn right.” He grabs Jack by the collar and pulls him in, kissing him hard, as if they’re not standing front and center in a circle of Rhys’ closest friends.

The kind of friends who, apparently, are not above wolf-whistles and obnoxious clapping at this very public display of affection. Jack can feel Rhys’ smile on his lips, and when Rhys lets him go Jack can see it, wide and brilliant, and enough to make every minute of the evening worth it.

Jack has no regrets.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me at [ThirtySixSaveFiles](http://thirtysixsavefiles.tumblr.com) on Tumblr!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] The Favor of Your Reply](https://archiveofourown.org/works/6581230) by [argentumlupine](https://archiveofourown.org/users/argentumlupine/pseuds/argentumlupine)




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